


It is Customary

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: Stories 10,001 - 20,000 words [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: A blue dildo is going to be featured as in most of author’s fics, Adult Content, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Simon Snow, Awkward Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Baz is alone for the day while Simon is away on a mission, Baz is confused at first, Baz is terrified Simon regrets it all, Carry On Exchange (Simon Snow), Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Engagement, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Gentle Simon Snow, Getting Together, Good news Simon might understand one custom pretty well, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Happy Porn, Happy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, How is Baz planning to spend the day?, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, No Angst, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining, Possessive Simon Snow, Pride and Prejudice References, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon has a very important question to ask, Simon is confused about all the customs in the World of Mages, Smoke and Cinnamon scented lube, Smut, SnowBaz, The answer obviously is - porn and wanking, The author has a constant need to name P&P as Baz’s favourite novel, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow in Love, Watford Eighth Year, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: [Explicit] 18+ Simon and Baz.Right now, I am in a desperate need of something to do that will keep my mind off any unpleasant thoughts.You might think I am planning on perusing through all the memorable pages of my favourite novel, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. Yes, that would be an excellent idea. However, I can do that at any time.There are other things I could occupy myself with that are usually out of my reach while Snow is around.Watford 8th year. Simon is away on yet another mission.Baz gets a brilliant idea on how to spend his alone time. He may have some contraband goods stashed in their room.Simon unexpectedly returns while Baz is in the shower.What will Simon think and do? What will Baz?Written for KrisRix for Carry On Exchange.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Stories 10,001 - 20,000 words [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101029
Comments: 68
Kudos: 238
Collections: Carry_On_Summer_Exchange_2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrisRix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisRix/gifts).



> Dear reader, the prompt I was given contained several ideas. I've chosen: Snowbaz, yearning, getting together. AUs were welcomed and I've gone with Canon Divergent AU.  
>   
> Dear Kris, I hope you will enjoy this. 💙  
>   
> The updates will be pretty quick. It's all written down, just needs to be edited. Unfortunately, I can't stop re-editing each chapter so I am posting this one in order to be able to start on the next one.  
>   
> Lots of gratitude to my loveliest friends and betas: [mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow), [foolofabookwyrm](http://foolofabookwyrm.tumblr.com), [ imhellakitty](http://imhellakitty.tumblr.com), [anawkwardbibliophile](http://anawkwardbibliophile.tumblr.com) and [hufflepunky](http://hufflepunky.tumblr.com)  
>   
> Thank you all for tolerating my chaotic writing and showing nothing but love and support.  
>   
> An extra shot out to loveliest [Craftybadger1234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234) and [llamapyjamas](http://llamapyjamas.tumblr.com) for responding to my cryptic screenshots about my nonexistent English grammar.  
>   
> Thank you dear friends for all your emotional support and help through yet another Carry On event.

# BAZ

Snow is away on yet another mission for the Mage. Am I constantly worried about his life and wellbeing while he is sent by the Mage to chase one useless relic after another, you wonder? 

Of course, I am, you don’t even have to ask. However, there is nothing I can do about him risking his life. 

Nevertheless, the stress is getting to me. Snow came home with a sprained ankle last time. I keep imagining the worst-case scenario — him not coming back home at all. The thought is devastating and already my undead heart contracts uncomfortably. 

There isn’t anything I can do and my fretting over his wellbeing won't help him. Therefore, the most reasonable solution for me would be to distract myself. 

I’ve already hunted in the Wavering Wood and drained two dozen birds. 

Right now, I am in a desperate need of something to do that will keep my mind off any unpleasant thoughts.

You might think I am planning on perusing through all the memorable pages of my favourite novel, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. Yes, that would be an excellent idea. However, I can do that at any time. There are other things I could occupy myself with that are usually out of my reach while Snow is around. 

I have a laptop here at school. (Fiona managed to magickally smuggle it in somehow.) It’s not connected to the internet but it doesn’t have to be. 

Let’s just say all the decent videos I’ve found over the course of both Summer and Winter breaks are now safely stored on my hard drive. 

I am speaking of porn, of course. Having some quality time with myself seems more beneficial than stressing and agonising over things that can’t be helped — Simon risking his life for nothing. I may as well have a _wank_.

That is why I take out my laptop and undo the concealment spell on it. I remove my trousers, get comfortable on my bed with the laptop propped on my lap and browse through my videos, trying to decide which one would be the most suitable for today. 

I am not entirely sure what I might be in a mood for. My eyes linger on one in particular. It has it all — a decent plot, multitude of positions and the most important thing, the participants have a vague resemblance of Snow and me.

Truthfully, I usually save this one for a special occasion, I don't want to spoil it by overwatching. Today might be one of those days though. I’m missing Snow already, worrying about him. I need a good wank and this video is the right choice for it. 

I press the button and enjoy the show. And let me tell you, it’s a good one. There's some easy banter going on. One can clearly see that it's flirting concealed by animosity. Those two will be tearing at each other's clothes and shagging soon enough. If only real life was that easy. I wouldn't mind tearing at Snow’s clothes and kissing him breathless. Better not to overthink it and concentrate on the happy couple on the screen. 

Eventually, I am too aroused. I place the laptop next to me on the bed and start palming myself through the fabric of my pants. 

A thought occurs to me. I am going to be alone for the whole day. I am not in a hurry by any means. Why not make an event out of it?

With that decision locked and ready, I fish out my dildo from my cupboard and remove the concealment spell from it too. And before you ask, yes all these precautions are necessary. Snow goes through my personal belongings at least once a week. I can smell him on my things. (I can’t get enough of the sensation — holding with my hands what he touched with his.)

My dildo is the most ordinary blue you’ve ever encountered. Yes, it is the colour of Snow’s eyes and therefore the most beautiful one. Perhaps it’s the romantic in me that got me to choose this particular colour. It makes me think of _him_.

I hurriedly shed the rest of my clothing, fold everything and place them neatly on my chair. Then I cast a quick silencing spell on the door. Ours is the only room at the top of the Tower, no need to worry for anyone overhearing on the other side of the wall.

I pick up my wand, the bottle of my water resistant lube that was stored together with the dildo, restart the video with volume higher and leave for the en suite. 

Originally this was a simple special ordered edible water based lubricant, smoke and cinnamon scented with cinnamon flavour. Snow smells like smoke and cinnamon. Bacon as well. However, I abstained from adding that to the combination. 

I had to magick lube water resistant. Thank snakes I am powerful enough to do so.

I am going to cast a cleaning spell, take a thorough shower and get myself prepped. I want to still be able to hear everything that is happening on the screen. 

Who knows, I might wank while in the shower to prolong the pleasure later. Oh who am I kidding. Of course, I'd be getting myself off. I am going to make the best of my alone time. 

I put my wand at the counter when I am done casting the cleaning spell and get inside the bathtub with my washing products and the bottle of lube. I had the foresight to have the water running _before_ stepping in. It’s scalding hot and exactly what I need to warm myself up.

My muscles relax under the spray and the steam spreading around the room is soothing my body even more. I tilt my head towards the water, feeling every scalding hot drop gliding off my face, my lips; imagining Snow kissing me, touching me everywhere. It’s good. I already opened the bottle of lube — smoke and cinnamon scent is going to make this fantasy of Snow more realistic. 

I don’t actually know how it would feel — his arms on me. My vivid imagination can only reach so far. Regardless, I cherish this illusion; it turns me on and I feel my cock grow.

I let myself enjoy the sensation of the scent combined with the warmth coming from the shower. It is taking over all of my senses and giving pleasure before I even start wanking. I am rock hard and I don’t want to wait any longer, except I must. I take a thorough shower first. 

After I give myself a few experimental pulls. “Ah…” It feels good. Better when I am warm; the noises from the laptop are getting me all randy. 

My body is simply aching for release. I pick up the open bottle of lube; squeeze a generous amount on my palm and spread it on my fingers. Then I rest my forehead against the tiles and start teasing my hole a bit with my forefinger. It is an odd angle, but this isn’t my first rodeo. I am used to odd angles.

I am practically trembling with anticipation now. It’s been a while.

I probe myself and move my finger in and out slowly, remembering the sensation… My body wants it. It doesn’t take long before I add another finger, curling it just right and let out a gasp. I’m thrusting them into my hole and I tremble from pleasure. 

More. I need more. I add another finger and shudder when I brush against my prostate. It’s so good. 

I start driving my fingers right into my hole, rubbing my prostate more firmly now and let out a loud moan. “Oh yes…” I reach for my cock and stroke myself to the rhythm of my fingers inside me. It’s so good. The pleasure is spreading through my whole body and I throw my head backwards, panting. This is an exceptional wank. In the washroom where Snow takes a shower every day, with a decent substitute of his scent, courtesy of the special-ordered lube. 

I inch myself backwards into my fingers, doing my best to rock at them and brush my prostate as much as possible. I am getting closer to an incredible prostate orgasm. And yet it is not enough. 

The porn movie is progressing now. “I want you,” I hear one bloke say — the one that looks like Snow. (I’ve memorised their voices by heart.)

I want Snow here with me. I close my eyes and imagine him. His arms around me; his chest pressed into my back. His cock inside my hole, slamming into me; whispering breathlessly how much he wants me. His hand on my cock, stroking me desperately. 

All of the loud noises from the porn are helping me to make this fantasy more realistic. The encouragement and the moaning. I pretend it to be Snow when I hear, “God, you’re so good.” Snow swears like a Normal when he is on the edge. It could happen. I would get him all riled up with hands and my mouth and then my _derrière_.

For a moment I even think I can smell him. The real scent of smoke, not the artificial substitute. It is much better. I rock myself harder against my fingers and speed up. I need more. 

Everything feels electric when the sensation of a prostate orgasm hits me like a tsunami, shuddering me in the best possible way. I pick up the pace, pulling faster on my cock. Another shudder goes through my entire body. 

“Oh, Simon…” I moan as I explode with one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. I give myself a few more pulls and practically collapse against the wall; my legs feel like cotton. 

I need time to gather myself. With the steam and the hot water warming me, it is easy to let myself get caught in the moment; to believe the fantasy of Snow ever wanting me. It is nothing more than a mere illusion. I need to get myself under control. I need to remember that unless I risk breaking my own heart.

# SIMON

Apparently they located another copy of the book somewhere else and I didn’t have to go after this one anymore. Which sounded weird to me. Shouldn’t the Mage want to get back what was stolen? 

Not that I'm going to complain about it. Going on missions is not as fun as people would assume, especially since I'm only ever being sent on one as brute force. But that's my duty as the Chosen One.

I enter our room and stop. I didn't hear anything while climbing the stairs of the Tower but now there are loud noises coming from a laptop propped on Baz’s bed. (He must have cast a silencing spell on the room.) 

Baz has a laptop. That’s not allowed. However, I can’t concentrate on that too much with the wild sounds coming from it. I’ve never had sex before but even I know what it sounds like. 

There are two blokes on the screen going at it. They seem to be overly flexible. Or at the very least one of them is. I tilt my head to the side to get a better look.

The flexible one is lying on the bed and has his legs on top of the other one’s shoulder. He’s practically twisted. Nevertheless, the position doesn’t impair his capacity to moan. He’s vocal, to say the least. 

Oh, Merlin. That does look _hot_. The one bloke, the flexible one, he’s well fit, that’s for sure. There’s something about him that is rather alluring to me for some reason.

He’s pretty pale. Except there's something off about his paleness. No idea what it could be. And his eyes don't have enough grey in them for him to look _perfect_.

Nonetheless, that's one good looking bloke. Long black hair, lean muscles, legs that go on for miles. I wonder if he’s a footballer. 

Just like that, out of the blue, I have the undeniable desire to try things that they do with someone too. (I try not to imagine who that someone might be.)

The other bloke isn’t really anything special. Light brown hair, too many freckles and moles and his hands look too rough like mine.

I get a closer look at the screen. That bloke does resemble me a great deal. Why would Baz be watching porn with two blokes where one is rather fit and the other one looks like me?

Another question comes to mind. Why is Baz watching porn between two blokes? He isn’t gay. I mean he doesn’t have to be gay to watch it, I guess.

Next moment I notice a blue dildo lying on his bed. _Bloody hell._ Is he planning to use it? I shake my head. Still doesn’t prove anything. The dildo doesn’t really indicate that Baz is gay either.

Has Baz gotten the dildo and the laptop only today? I check his things weekly — for clues of his plotting. I smell them too, just in case. It’s soothing to do so. Possibly because I’ve gotten used to absorbing Baz’s scent. It reminds me of home. I mean… I don’t even know what I am speaking of exactly — the dildo is too distracting. 

I wonder what he does with it. Obviously I do understand the logistics of it all. It’s just the thought of Baz sprawling on his bed… Well, certain images are harder to let go off and not think about than others. 

Baz isn’t gay. I would have known about it. I know him better than anyone. 

However, as I am watching those two blokes, my mind keeps circling back to Baz and what he might enjoy. 

It also does get me thinking. What if Baz isn’t as straight as I always thought him to be. Is that even possible? 

Not that I care in any way. I am fairly sure that I haven’t spent the last three years wanking to the memory of his posh soap or his ripped stomach or his pouty lips curled into a perfect sneer. That could have been anyone. At least, I need to try and believe that. 

Him possibly being into blokes doesn’t affect me in any way. Besides, there is no reason for me to believe that he might be into _me_.

Those are the kind of thoughts I forbade myself to ponder about. I can’t constantly have Baz on my mind. Well, he is. But in a different manner. As long as I hate him or pretend to, then everything is fine. 

I can not under any circumstances let myself want him or admit to myself that there is more to it than just want. It’s more than physical and that is the problem.

My mind is spinning out of control and starts drifting towards Baz in a more romantic way. I need to shut it down before I reach a point of no return. Thinking about how I’ve probably been in love with him for years won’t do me any good.

But why was he enjoying watching someone who looks like me? I am assuming the video is satisfying enough for Baz to have it saved on his laptop. Unless it’s completely random but I find it hard to believe. How would that even work? He opens a video he doesn’t like and lets it play on high volume while he is in the shower? That doesn’t sound too realistic.

# BAZ

I have come to my senses and the weakness I felt earlier because of Snow is gone. I got caught up in the moment, letting myself imagine things I shouldn’t, things that could never happen and now I am back to reality. 

No matter what I am still very happy — this was an exceptionally good wank. When I finally calm down from the euphoria of my orgasm, I finish my shower and dry myself up. I pick up my wand and the bottle of lube and get back to the room. I am going to continue pleasuring myself. What can I say, I have to make sure to put my alone time to good use. Good and _thorough_. 

# SIMON

I am startled from my thoughts by Baz exiting the en suite wearing nothing at all and quite aroused. (I’m hard myself already.)

If nothing else, that wanking fantasy I’ve been using and pretending it not to be about Baz has now gotten much more detailed with the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. (Not that I’ve seen that many, but the showers are communal at the care homes and it was hard not to sneak a peek.)

Baz is holding his wand. Why would he take a shower with it? He’s also holding a small bottle of something. I can’t tell what it is and I don’t care enough to get a better look since my eyes are drifting towards the rest of him. Baz is the best looking bloke at school; I’ve known this for years. Nonetheless, I wasn’t expecting him to look this good while naked — better than dressed, so much better. Baz should walk around our room nude all the time. 

He swallows and blushes when he sees me. It’s more prominent — _his blush_. (Baz has probably hunted recently.) He’s looking at me first, then his eyes slowly slide down to my crotch. I doubt Baz can miss the swelling against my jeans. If I feel my cock straining against the fabric, he can surely see it too. His pupils are black save for a thin ring of grey. I dare to say he’s affected by me. I like this better than fighting.

I wonder what it means that he hasn’t looked away yet. Is he simply too embarrassed or— Can it be that he would rather have me join him in whatever it is he is planning to do on his bed?

When Baz licks his lips the answer seems to be clear as day.

# BAZ

Snow is here. I thought I noticed the scent of smoke earlier. I simply assumed it was a part of my vivid imagination. Besides, my lube is special-ordered with a fragrance of smoke and cinnamon, like Snow himself. 

Truthfully, I had a rather good time in the shower with my mind being too preoccupied with imagining Snow’s cock inside me, as I brushed my fingers against my prostate, to give a stronger scent of smoke any thought. 

As it seems, sexual activity is clearly impairing my ability to think. It can't be helped at the moment. Snow is standing right in front of me and he isn't looking away. He isn't complaining about me having a laptop at school. Nor is he commenting about the porn that is still playing on the screen or the dildo lying on the bed. (Snow might have missed the dildo.) Instead he is looking at me. 

I wasn't expecting this. I might not be entirely sure what _this_ is exactly. Regardless, I wasn’t expecting it. 

My gaze stops at Snow’s swelled up crotch. He's unabashedly staring at my cock, I think I reserve the right to do the same. 

”Hi,” Snow utters softly, breathlessly. I almost drop my wand and the bottle of lube, I'm holding simply from hearing his voice in this manner. Snow doesn't sound angry from seeing me nude. That comes as a shock. My own breath is catching at the intensity of his gaze. 

When our eyes meet, he swallows. It's a whole scene. Unfortunately for me, I've fed rather well earlier, so I've got more than enough blood for my cheeks and ears to flush, while maintaining a significant erection. If anything I’ve gotten harder from watching Snow.

My cheeks practically burn more at his graphic swallowing than the fact that Snow is ogling my naked body. 

Yes, he is actually ogling me. It's a welcome change to his usual demeanour. I'd say he looks hungry and I've seen him this way before — at the dining hall when sour cherry scones or roast beef were served. Does Snow see me as meat? 

I don't even have it in me anymore to care about any consequences. This might be my one in a million chance. I can't muck this up.

”So you're still alive, I see?”

Aleister Crowley, if only Hell could drag me down right this moment. I am an embarrassment to my bloodline. Mother defended Father in _three duels_. I can't even manage a case of simple flirting. Or is this courting? Is Snow exclusively interested in a roll in the hay or is he serious? I want whatever he's offering, consequences be damned. 

# SIMON

Baz is staring at my crotch and I am assuming he is currently insulting me. (I'm starting to believe he doesn't know how _not_ to do that.) I have no idea what Baz is saying exactly because his lips move so gorgeously. And also his chest and stomach are fit. Baz’s hair looks nice wet, when it's falling in lazy waves over his forehead. And his cock is a bloody perfection.

I should probably say something, so Baz won’t think I am a complete moron.

“I came back early,” I manage to squeak it out even though I can hardly breathe. His skin is so smooth and his cock is very hard and I keep wondering how much better it would feel to the touch than my own. 

# BAZ

Alright, Snow seems to be in a chit chat mood and wasn’t offended by my previous outburst for whatever reason. I need to play my cards right. 

“You always had a way of stating the obvious,” I regret what I say as soon as it flies out of my mouth. I can’t take it back though can I? And I call Snow a moron. 

_Get a grip on yourself, Basilton._

Shouldn’t I be better than this? I got top marks in every class last year.

# SIMON

Baz said something again without me listening to him properly. How could I when he’s naked and his cock is hard? I should probably reply, but should I agree or disagree? What is the protocol here exactly? Maybe I could say something conversationally that still fits.

“I’m glad that I came back early.”

Merlin, I sound like a dolt. I just said almost the same thing not a minute ago. Is there anything I can I do to make sure Baz knows how much I want him I wonder?

# BAZ

At least I haven’t sneered at him yet. I should count that as a win. Perhaps I am not a lost cause after all.

Alright then, no need for panic. I can do this. Third time's a charm as Normals say. Surely I can manage to flirt with Snow if I put my mind to it.

My eyes slide over his crotch and the humongous bulge in his trousers I so desperately wish to get my hands on, “Yes, I can see that,” is what my brain comes up with while my eyebrow raises involuntarily. It's practically a Pavlovian reaction to Snow and I regret everything. 

He grins at me though; takes his necklace with the cross off and tosses it towards the door. Snow has never removed it before; not even once since the day he started wearing the cross. I must have done something right without realizing it myself. 

Was I by any chance flirting? Chomsky only knows how I pulled _that_ off. I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, now am I?

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, I've added more to chapter 1 after it was already posted. Sorry about that. 💙

# SIMON

Baz is looking at me and blushing still. Since I have trouble understanding what he says while his cock is out and distracting me, enthralling me with its elegance and grace, I can’t really follow what is happening. 

Nevertheless, I have deduced certain things. Baz wants me, that much is clear. 

I wonder what it means exactly for _us_. 

The World of Mages is well confusing. I struggle to this day to make sense of it all. There isn’t a book, unfortunately. _All the Magickal Things that Are Actually True and All the Ones that Are Bollocks, Just Like You Thought._

One thing I know for sure — the World of Mages is overly old fashioned. If anything intimate happens between me and Baz, does it mean we're engaged to be married? 

Surprisingly, my mind doesn’t panic at that thought. If anything it welcomes it. 

If Baz and I are engaged, that would mean no one can take him away from me. Not that I have much to worry — I'm good with my sword. I don't own Baz, of course, but I’d never let anyone try and come between us. 

Still, it's easier if we are about to get married. I suppose we might need to kiss first for all the rest to happen. Is it truly customary to get married after something more intimate than snogging transpires between us? It must be so. The World of Mages is all about outdated traditions so it makes perfect sense. 

”Baz— ” I say and swallow again. Words aren't my biggest strength at the best of times. He looks at me and licks his lips again. 

I think he wants this too. But I'm too nervous. I've never kissed anyone before. Oh wait, I have. But it's different, obviously. I don't _have_ to kiss Baz because it's what is expected of me, because we're dating. My relationship with Agatha was that way, it had rules and a certain routine. 

It’s different with Baz. I _want_ to kiss him so we will be dating and also for more to happen including our engagement. Can't forget about that. I don’t want to run around Watford chopping heads off anyone who dares to look at him. (That seems like so much unnecessary work and I'd rather be snogging Baz.)

# BAZ

Do I wish to pin Snow to the mattress of my bed and ravage him with my mouth, you wonder?

The answer is, of fucking course. However, I have some lingering concerns about our current situation.

Primarily, I do not know without a shadow of a doubt if Snow is indeed interested in me. He _is_ currently exceedingly hard. Snow’s overly impressive erection notwithstanding, I am still in doubt. He may be interested in the movie on the screen instead of me.

“Enjoying the show?” I ask and mean of course the porn on my laptop. I try not to sound jealous. 

They are still at it in the video. I've tuned out the loud moaning myself; Snow obviously hasn't. 

# SIMON

“Yeah… I am,” I manage to choke out. Baz is so hot, of course I’m enjoying watching him.

As I continue to practically drool over Baz — naked and _hard_ — all the sounds surrounding me go quite. I can only think of him. I even forgot there’s porn on until I see Baz glance in the direction of his laptop.

# BAZ

“And you?” Snow asks me and I am not quite sure what he is speaking of. I can’t see the screen from where I am standing. Is he indicating by any chance that he is indeed enjoying watching _me_? 

If that is true, perhaps I should kiss him. 

“I rather am,” I answer and worry if that was too much. Would it have been more prudent of me to stay vague instead? Does he know I’m in love with him now? Besides, yet another concern comes to mind. 

What if Snow assumes I am trying to attack him and bite him? I _want_ to bite him, except with my teeth, not my fangs.

# SIMON

I want Baz so bloody much. It’s more than just physical. I wonder if he is going to make the first move. He’s always doing that on the pitch so I simply assume he’ll do that again. And I do want him to be comfortable. 

When nothing happens and he swallows nervously, I start to ponder if Baz isn’t as confident as I always thought he was.

So I take a step forward and reach for him with my hand, uncertainly. Baz doesn’t flinch away, and takes a long slow breath, inhaling deeply.

 _It’s now or never._

I cup his cheek as cautiously as I can. I don't want Baz to think I am attacking him; we haven't had the best track record so far when it comes to physical contact. 

Baz isn't pulling away, our eyes locked on each other. I can feel his cool silky skin against me. It's better than my mind could have ever conjured — his skin against mine like this — slow and unhurried and tender. Baz tilts his head towards my hand, as if he is enjoying this as much as I am. 

This is the first time we’ve shared a touch without fighting. His stormy grey eyes are piercing me, all the way to my core, as if he can see all of me now, everything I'm feeling. I've never been this vulnerable without the overpowering desire to pull away. I don't want to do that. Pull away that is. I want _more_. 

I stop breathing for a moment. Baz’s skin under my palm makes everything powerful and intense. 

Baz feels it too, I'm sure of it. Because he isn't breathing either. I brush the tip of my thumb over his cheek and he sighs, letting out a shuddering breath. 

I'm still unsure of what he wants exactly. 

# BAZ

This right here is our first soft touch. I can't get enough of it, his warmth sipping all the way to the coldest corners of my undead heart. 

I think I'm going to kiss him. He’s right there — mere inches apart. Snow palms my cheek, moving his hand up to my ear. I sigh and shiver from pleasure.

”Simon…,” I say. And then _he_ kisses _me_.

# SIMON

When I lean in, Baz’s eyelids flutter, and at this moment, I am convinced more than ever that he’s the most beautiful person I've ever seen. 

I thought I wanted to kiss him as if it was a fight — hastily and on instinct until both our mouths were sore. Except now I know I want to savour it — savour him. Even though I want to see him, my eyes shut involuntarily from the overwhelming sensation of his scent and his taste. I’m enjoying this too much to be able to keep my eyes open.

My lips brush lightly against his and a sigh escapes my mouth. _I've wanted Baz for years_. I don't have to pretend otherwise, not anymore.

When I feel a smile on Baz’s lips, I can't help but smile back. He can't see it but he can _feel_ it. He’s so gentle with me. I don't know how to be that. I want to be that for Baz.

I ghost my lips over his, slowly, while my hand comes to rest over his stomach. When I start rubbing circles on it, Baz whimpers against my mouth, his lips start moving almost desperately over mine. 

My other hand moves back to rest on the nape of his neck while my thumb is still on his cheek, tracing it. We are pressing into each other and I feel his hard cock against me. A soft whimper escapes his lips and I can’t love him more. (I’m finally letting myself acknowledge that I love Baz.) 

He’s too good for me, I am more aware of that fact now than ever before. Every brush of our lips feels electric.

Without letting go of Baz’s stomach, I deepen the kiss and swipe my tongue over his lips. He parts them and I sense the cool and sweet sensation of Baz. I don't want this moment to ever end.

# BAZ

Snow’s touch ignites a fire inside of me, both my undead heart and my groin. Who knew that was even possible? 

I've been reluctant to touch Simon myself — agonizing over scaring him off with my enthusiasm and desperation. 

However, since Snow is touching _me_ , perhaps I could return the favour. Surely that won’t reveal all my feelings towards him and make him run for the hills? Or will it? How am I to know? I'm extremely inexperienced when it comes to these things. 

I suppose it's time to embrace the danger. _You can do this, Basilton. You have top marks in every subject._

# SIMON

Everything we're doing feels incredible. It gets even better when Baz touches me. 

By the time his arms are around my shoulders, holding on to me and his tongue is in _my_ mouth, I'm ready to explode. Our kisses are getting more intense. Even though it feels like Baz really doesn't know what he's doing with his tongue, it's the best kiss I've ever had. 

It feels incredible snogging Baz and I am not even bothered by his wand and whatever else he’s holding poking against my shoulder.

All I can think about is his lips on mine and his very hard cock poking against my stomach. It's not enough. I move my hand from Baz’s stomach over to the small of his back. Would it be alright to grope him I wonder?

Baz presses against me more as if he read my mind earlier. Is telepathy a vampire thing? Should I think of more fantasies and see how he might react to them? (That’s just wishful thinking on my part. I don't actually believe it's possible.)

I slide my hand down and palm his bum. Baz moans into my mouth and I squeeze his arse. It feels perky and delicious under my hand. There's a list in my head of all the things I’ve always wanted to do to Baz. After kissing him, doing anything to his bum is next on that list. 

And maybe, just maybe, if I'm lucky enough Baz might want to do _more_. 

# BAZ

I try desperately to memorise every single detail of this moment — everything we’re doing. Except it seems the task is practically impossible.

My undead heart is beating faster than it ever has before. I am giddy from happiness. Simon’s lips, his taste is driving me mad. His hand on my derrière is unbelievable yet a very welcome addition. Does it mean he enjoys my arse? How much more would he be interested in enjoying it I wonder? I want him to fuck my brains out. Did that sound romantic? I meant it as such. 

I'm still holding on to my wand and lube. I don't have time to discard them; I am too preoccupied relishing the sensation of Snow to do that. I don't know for how long he’ll want me. I have to make the best of it.

I lose myself in our kiss, grinding myself into him; my cock aching from the most incredible pleasure I've ever experienced. Simon’s groping of my arse is a cherry on top. All this unbelievable pleasure is making my head spin. I want Simon so much. My whole body is screaming for him, enjoying him.

Before I even know it, we end up on my bed with Simon on top of me, kissing me wildly. I throw the bottle of lube and my wand next to us and push the laptop shut.

Suddenly he starts to pull his sweater off. I wasn't expecting that. Would Snow be appalled by me undressing him? Or perhaps he might be into it. The reason I am letting myself doubt is simple. Simon Snow has surprised me today. Not only does he enjoy snogging a bloke but _me_ of all people. (I am using the term ’people’ symbolically.) (Because I’m not a person.)

That is why I decide not to make any rash assumptions about him. 

I let go of his lips and offer, doing my damndest not to sound like a love sick fool that I am, ”I can help.”

”Yeah,” he nods and my stomach flutters with anticipation. 

I want to tear all his clothing off in one swift movement. I don't do that. Instead, I lift the fabric up, trying not to be in too much of a hurry. Except I am. When I pull it over his head, I reach for Simon with my mouth and he meets me halfway. I start working on his flies next and he somehow manages to manoeuvre his trousers without breaking our kiss and tosses them aside. Top marks for dedication and craftsmanship. 

It seems like Simon Snow has no trouble performing gracefully and with precision when he is properly motivated. Am I motivating Snow? I'd like to believe that to be true. Is it foolish to indulge in this manner you ask? Perhaps it is. Regardless, today seems to be one of those days. I am going to let myself have this beautiful illusion and let the chips fall where they may later. 

My undead heart is beating with joy while my cock is aching with lust. Therefore, I can't bring myself to care about the way Snow is littering the floor with his clothing. My cock has the upper hand over my brain at the moment. Thank snakes for small miracles. 

I feel Snow rolling down his pants and I stop breathing for a moment. This is it, this is when I'm going to get to experience his cock in some manner. I am not sure what he wants. I myself am open to anything and everything. 

When Snow lifts his hips up, he quickly takes his pants off entirely and throws them towards the rest of his clothing. 

As unbelievable as it might sound, we’re both in my bed and completely naked now. 

I try to count to ten in my head before I can speak. I don’t want to sound too desperate or too needy. I want to tell Simon that we aren’t in a hurry, to reassure him he doesn’t need to do anything he isn’t comfortable with. 

Except I don’t get to do any of it, because Snow’s lips find mine again, his hand threads through my hair, as his hips push towards me and my brain short circuits. 

Our bodies and our cocks are touching. Aleister Crowley, our exceedingly hard cocks are flush against each other. I feel his precome leaking on me and press back towards Simon’s thrusts as his mouth starts invading mine. 

This most definitely feels like the best kind of invasion. He is exploring my mouth very thoroughly. I can’t help but wonder what else he might want to _explore_. I embrace Simon’s shoulders with both my arms and marvel in this ecstasy.

I am letting myself have the best pleasure I’ve ever experienced. Simon’s lips taste heavenly and his big trunk sways in the most satisfying way against my own rock hard cock. I haven’t seen his majestic beast yet, only felt it. Regardless, I love it with all my undead heart already and want to experience all the riches of Snow’s humongous cock. 

Nothing can beat this. His skin is burning me in the best possible way while his lips are killing every bad thought I’ve ever had. I cling to Simon, my arms still on his shoulders, my fingers tracing his beautiful freckled skin. One hand comes up to the nape of his neck and I let the feeling of the short hairs there take over my senses. 

Everything about Simon is absolutely divine. I want to touch him _everywhere_.

I want to kiss all of his moles and possibly trace them with my tongue too. Will I get to do that, I wonder? I lick into Simon’s mouth with all the pent up desire I have been carrying around for years, while our hips are rocking in unison.

I don’t even have it in me to feel bad about it. I am too weak for him. We’re both gasping, our bodies entangled. He might be affected by me too if his uneven breathing and hard cock is any indication. 

Snow is quite an expert kisser. He’s tilting his chin in a way that is bringing me the most pleasure. If I weren’t on my back already I would be positively swooning.

When Snow pulls back, I freeze, worried I’ve done something wrong. Have I pulled him too tight towards me? (I have been holding on to him for dear life.) Before my panic takes over my mind completely, he starts trailing kisses down my jaw; moving towards my neck.

“Simon…,” I involuntarily moan when he begins to suck a love bite on me with his mouth. Truthfully, I am not convinced it will work. I don’t think there is enough blood in me for that. 

Not that I know of. I’ve never had anyone do that to me. I’ve never been with anyone but Simon. 

Simon is relentless and keeps sucking on several spots. I wonder if he succeeded. Something about having tangible proof of this perfect moment is getting me exceedingly randy. 

His hand is on my stomach, still moving in soothing circles. Except they are anything but. My cock is hard and aching almost painfully. I can feel Simon’s perfect erection, pressing against me. If I weren’t already beyond aroused, I would have come from that — feeling his rock hard trunk. I would also like him to touch my derrière again.

Simon’s other hand is still buried in my hair. When he pulls I let out a loud groan. I should be embarrassed. I am not. Instead, I want him _more_. I had no idea that was possible. 

As his mouth finds mine again, our kiss gets hungrier, more desperate. Or is it only me? I refuse to ponder it and let myself enjoy and cherish every second of this — Simon and I together, our limbs entangled. There is so much passion in our kiss, it takes my breath away. 

I move my hands over him, trying to map the constellation of freckles and moles scattered all over his beautiful tawny skin. I yearn to absorb every inch accessible to me at the moment. Simon seems to be doing the same, running his hands all over me. It's so good and yet not enough. Our hard cocks are flush against each other, and my need for more friction is practically unbearable. 

When his fingers reach my lower stomach, I am close to crying out of joy. ”May I— ” Simon starts; he’s breathless still and a little embarrassed; a beautiful blush is colouring his cheeks, neck and half of his chest. 

I cut him off by whispering into his mouth, ” _Yes_.”

# SIMON

Without breaking our kiss I reach for Baz’s cock and take a hold of his base. He’s leaking precome, even more than I do which is a good thing. We won’t be needing any lube then; at least not for a while.

I spread his precome all over the tip and swipe my finger through the slit a few times. Baz’s breathing catches at that and I do it again, paying extra attention to his tip and then slowly going up and down along the shaft. 

The smooth silky texture of it and the intimacy — being with Baz in this manner — is taking my own breath away. I’m still a virgin. This is my first time. Is it his too, I wonder?

I am touching Baz and he wants it. We’ve done plenty of touching over the years. None of it was pleasant. Everything we’re doing now feels so much more significant. For the first time in so long, I know what I really want. 

Baz is giving me this gift and it means more than I can explain. I want to thank him. I don’t. That might make me sound like a complete idiot.

As I move my hand along his shaft, I catch every breath and every moan Baz makes with my mouth, to savour every part of him.

It doesn’t take long before I am stroking him faster and Baz is whimpering under me. I need more. I am also realising that my kisses with him are getting too sloppy. I can’t do both — kiss him and get him off. Not right now anyway. I have to stop kissing Baz. And yet I _need_ my mouth on him. 

That’s when I get a brilliant idea. I’ve never done it before but I want to try it.

I reluctantly pull my lips from his. My breathing is ragged and my hand stills on his cock when I say, “Baz, may I... I mean. Would you want me to—“

Baz seems to try and raise an eyebrow at me and his eye twitches. I think he is just as nervous as I am. 

# BAZ

“Would I want you to do _what_ exactly?” I ask. Not because I want to torture Snow, making him spill things out. No, I want to make sure that what I think he means is actually what he means. I want to be sure he wants _this_ — whatever this is exactly.

So, yes, I need him to spell it out for me. Is this a rejection or does he want me in more ways? It doesn’t sound like rejection, but one never knows. I am prone to overthinking and it stands to reason that Snow is indeed implying that he...well...I have no bloody idea what. I need him to tell me. 

Simon can have me in every way imaginable. I simply need to ensure we are on the same page. At the very least with what we’re doing. Emotionally, we never will be. However, that isn’t something I will be pondering today. 

Don’t people say it’s important to make mistakes? Not that being with Simon is a mistake… Well, perhaps in the long term — for my sanity and my unprotected undead heart.

Snow’s Adam's apple jumps as he swallows. 

“To taste— you. I mean _your_ _cock_ ,” he stammers through his words and goes all shades of scarlet. I don’t wish for Simon to be anxious. I just need to be sure. 

In order to soothe him, I kiss his lips and lick into his mouth with all the enthusiasm I have and start sucking on his bottom lip. 

I kiss him breathlessly before pulling away. I am beyond desperate for Snow and worry he can see it in my eyes. I try my best to keep myself calm as I look at him. I am not sure if I am succeeding though; I hear my breath catch when I answer, “I want you to.”


	3. Chapter 3

# SIMON

I raise my head over him, to get a better look. Baz’s eyes look _sultry_ and he may or may not be eating me up with his gaze. (I don’t think I’ve ever described anything as sultry before.)

“Can I kiss you too?” I ask because I need more of him. 

Baz gives me a stare that suggests he is doing his best not to say something too condescending. I think it’s a real struggle for him; might be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life. I guess I could have phrased it better. 

“I thought you just did,” he states slowly as if it physically pains him not to call me a moron or sneer at me. I might be into Baz sneering, his plump lips curl so prettily. “You are welcome to do it again.”

“I want to… but I was actually speaking about your—“ I am not good with sex talk, I think. I am not good with sex either, for that matter. (It’s my first time.) But at least _doing_ it doesn’t require _talking_ about it. I take a deep breath (this is beyond embarrassing), “—other places.” 

And now it sounds even more idiotic. Baz should call me daft. He really should. No one could blame him.

He doesn’t. Instead, he blushes and something settles inside me; we’re in this together and he’s affected too. “I want to kiss all of you,” I say with new confidence.

Baz’s eyes widen a bit in surprise. I doubt anyone else would have noticed. I do — I am used to paying attention to all of his body movements and him as a whole every single day. 

Then he raises his infernal eyebrow at me. (I wonder if he is capable of not doing that.)

“I would not be opposed to that,” he says, his eyes so intense they could burn me alive. “At all,” Baz adds, licking his lips. I am practically hypnotized by the movements of his tongue. Should I lick him too?

My hands are on each side of his beautiful face, touching Baz gently, feeling his skin against my fingertips. I am not a gentle person but I want to be when I am with Baz. I want to give him my love, not take anything away from him.

I start at his neck, kissing and then licking him experimentally next to the love bites I’ve left. They have started to fade away. 

Not much _yet_. I suppose I will need to redo them every few hours or so. I don’t mind the extra work — that might be the best mission I’ve ever had. 

Baz gasps, his fingers pressing into my shoulder. With that encouragement, I leave a few more love bites since the others are starting to fade already. I love the smell and taste of his skin. I can sense his soap — cedar and bergamot. But also _Baz_. His aroma underneath is better. It’s what I crave the most.

“Simon…,” Baz moans and it goes straight to my heart and my cock. (I had no idea the two were connected; perhaps it’s because of Baz.)

With Baz, I am not just a brute force or the last resort — the nuclear option. I am more than that when my lips and my tongue are tracing his skin, coaxing beautiful broken moans out of him. 

I can be a better person with Baz just by kissing him. I am a better person. The realisation hits me in my gut; not in a bad way. I want _more_ and I let myself perform every tender gesture I never thought I was capable of. And it feels incredible. I want Baz to enjoy himself and knowing that I am responsible for his pleasure is making my head spin in the best possible way.

Then as my hands are exploring every inch I can reach, I continue trailing kisses and licking my way down his collarbone and chest (too smooth to have come naturally if you ask me) and his stomach. I stop there and make sure to kiss each ab and lick them too. I might be partial to Baz’s abs. 

Truth be told, I might be into everything that concerns Baz.

Suddenly I am worried Baz might not enjoy this, even though he’s still moaning beautifully. All the noises slipping out of his mouth are consuming me like a fire. It is the kind of flame only Baz can wield. 

I am not sure if this is due to him being a fire magician or because I am snogging someone I love. 

I’ve never felt this alive, regardless. I don’t think I could survive without his deep passion. I'm not too shocked that _this_ is the real Baz. There is nothing still or calm about him. I think it’s all a sham — his composure, his cool demeanour. 

His eyes have given him away even before today. I felt like drowning into them, every time I looked into his eyes. 

It was scary and exhilarated at the same time — a most perfect wild storm. I always did my best to avoid his eyes. Not anymore. I want to drown in them. I know he’ll save me.

There is the loveliest smile on Baz’s lips as his lashes move up and down; his chest rising and falling in the most delightful way. 

“Is this alright?” I ask just in case, “Does it... um— feel good?”

Baz’s breathing is uneven as he answers, “It’s... adequate.” Another blush, a few more licks to his lips. It’s as if we are speaking in code. 

How have I never understood it before — all his sneers and his vague insults? Baz has been flirting with me this whole time. That's… Well...he is _really_ bad at it. However, I have no idea how to flirt either. 

I always thought I was the only person in the World of Mages with poor social skills. I could not have been more wrong. 

Baz and I differ in our awkwardness and behaviour. Nevertheless, his social skills might be just as terrible as mine are. 

I wonder how long he’s wanted this? I don't have to wonder how long I've wanted this. The answer is — a very long time.

I try not to chuckle, “I am glad it is _adequate_.” 

The corner of his lips twitches. I hope I’ll get to see him smile more often. “Yes, you may continue... if you want to.”

“Oh, I do,” I try to say it in a seductive manner and am fairly sure I look like a dolt instead. Except Baz actually smiles at that. His smile is beautiful and it takes my breath away more than his naked body beneath me. (It’s prettier than his sneer.)

I lean in and kiss his stomach some more, while my hand continues caressing his skin. Everything about Baz turns me on. 

When I reach his cock, I crawl between Baz’s legs. Long footballer legs that I’ve been observing from afar for years; I thought I was envious of him every time my stomach flipped and my breathing became chaotic and ragged. It turns out I didn’t want his legs — I wanted _him_.

# BAZ

Snow is very close to my cock now. I take a deep breath, practically trembling from anticipation. 

Whatever he wants to do I want that too. I have no limits where Simon Snow is concerned. I want to feel him _everywhere_. His hands and mouth. When Snow licks his lips, all I can think about is how much I want my cock to become slick with his saliva. 

I wonder if he's going to do that? Take me in his mouth. Before today I would have said the possibility was entirely out of the question. 

Except so many of my fantasies have come true already. I can hardly believe it. How much can I handle without confessing my love to him, I wonder.

# SIMON

Baz is smooth everywhere and now I know for a fact that he is either shaving or magicking all the hairs away. I think I like that. I want to _lick_ him.

His cock is pale with a hint of grey, big and glorious. 

I never thought that perfection was possible. Mine is nothing special, all freckled and even has a mole on it, at the base.

I take hold of his shaft again and move my hand along while enjoying the view. 

Baz’s gorgeous cock looks like it could be featured in a commercial for something overly posh. There is a flair of natural elegance to his cock; the kind that can not be taught. 

He’s sturdy alright, there’s girth to his cock and yet it looks lean at the same time. (Like Baz himself — muscular even though he looks slim.) It’s a trick of the eye, because that is one big cock. 

I wonder if I can fit it all in my mouth. It’s not roast beef, I have to be careful not to bite. I’d prefer not to choke on it either. I wonder how it tastes… Baz’s lips and his skin have been quite the experience of perfection. I love every inch of him that I’ve managed to taste thus far.

I circle the base of his cock with my hand. (It fits but he _is_ big, practically like me.) There’s some precome lingering on the tip and I lick it up. That… Well, he’s just delicious. I should have known. I lick up every drop and start trailing small kisses along his shaft and feel my own cock twitch. I am so hard that it takes all my willpower not to start rutting against the mattress. I don't need any distractions. I want this to be about Baz.

Baz is practically squirming beneath me and his hand reaches for me.

“May I?” he asks breathlessly. I think he is going after my head. I can’t be too sure and at this moment I do not actually care. 

“Yeah,” I say and give his cock a long lick. Baz gasps again and threads his elegant fingers through my hair, tugging at my curls. It feels amazing, except it’s not strong enough.

“You can pull more,” I suggest as I let go of his cock for a moment before resuming my efforts of licking and kissing every part of it. 

I’m looking into his eyes. They are shining like two embers on fire. A jolt of electricity goes through me from the intensity of his eyes. Usually, I prefer not to look in people’s eyes. And yet I can’t look away from Baz. His eyes are giving me something I didn’t know I craved this desperately — a connection. Baz’s gaze burns me to my core and I want _more_. 

Without breaking our eye contact, I slowly curl my lips around the tip and start swallowing his cock. Baz’s whole body shudders, I can see it as he cries out “Aleister Crowley!” and not a minute later when half of his cock is filling my mouth, he’s pulling harder on my hair, gasping, “Simon… yes…” 

Turns out, my mouth is quite good for this — sucking Baz’s cock. I don’t even gag on him and eagerly take the entire length in. Every time I reach the tip of his cock, I give it a nice swipe with my tongue. Baz is panting loudly as I sink him into my mouth again and again.

While I am sucking Baz off, I see him glance in the direction of his dildo. Does he want me to use it on him? I want to do it, if he’d be alright with that.

So I let go of his cock, making sure to leave a long wet lick from the base all the way to the tip, following the dark greyish vein. Baz is equipped with almost an instruction visual — his cock is showing exactly where to lick.

I am surprised how much Baz seems to enjoy it when I leave wet kisses and lick around his shaft and bollocks. One would think he wouldn’t like it — because it’s too messy. It seems Baz is less tidy in the bedroom.

“Do you want me to use it...on you while I am... sucking you?” I ask nervously as I tilt my head towards the dildo, his hand starts slipping through my curls until it hits the bed.

Baz looks at me uncertainly, his eyes suddenly serious, “Do _you_ want to?”

I think I want to do it very much. I am fairly sure I won’t be able to think about anything else than that. 

“Yeah. I mean if _you_ also want to.”

Baz swallows, “I do.”

“Does it have to be the dildo?” I ask. I might not know much but I have working fingers and aren't they better than a dildo — more flexible? Or are they not big enough? 

“It doesn't have to be. You could use your fingers if you wanted to.”

# BAZ

Simon looks stunning naked. It’s even better now. He is flushed practically everywhere; his skin is the loveliest shade. It’s not because of his blood, although he smells incredible. No, the reason I enjoy seeing him this way is due to this not being an angry flush. 

This is something else — nervous, intimate, and something just between _us_. However, it also makes me wonder if he’s always been this nervous around me without me noticing it. 

His question shocked me, to say the least. Is that what Simon wants or is he inquiring about something else? 

Before I begin to panic, Snow mumbles, “I’d rather use my fingers if you want.” He swallows, looks at my arse, I assume, and then back at me. “Do you want me to?”

There is nothing I want more than that. I don’t say it out loud. But I need to tell him something so he’ll know I want it. How am I to act around him exactly? I don’t wish to reveal too much and yet I don’t want him to think that I’m not enjoying myself. 

“I’d be delighted,” I say and wonder if that might have been too evident how in love with Snow I am.

# SIMON

I pick up the bottle of lube that Baz discarded on the bed and look to him for confirmation. He nods. I fidget with it some, unsure how to proceed. 

Baz, meanwhile, takes one of his cushions and places it under his lower back. ”It’ll be easier for you to reach,” he answers my unspoken question. 

His legs are bent, open wide, while his bottom is very visible. I can't look away, my mouth is practically salivating for it; which isn't something I've ever thought about before — being this much into someone’s arse. 

It's because it is Baz. I want everything that has anything to do with him. I want to be as close to him as possible and touch every part of him.

I’m just noticing that he’s glistening with lube already around his hole. I give Baz a questioning look. “When did you have time to use the lube already?” Wasn’t he just taking a shower before I came back to our room.

“It was a long shower,” is what he tells me. I must look confused so Baz adds, “The lube is water resistant.”

Oh. Good to know. 

“How do I do this exactly? I don’t want to hurt you.”

I am not ashamed by my inexperience but I do feel a bit flustered talking about sex.

“Your nails are cut short, so you don’t have to worry about that.” I had no idea that was a concern. It makes sense now that I think about it.

“Start with one of your fingers, go slow and see how it goes.”

I do just that. But first I get a better look at Baz’s arse. It’s flawless just like the rest of him. No surprises there. 

His hole is puckered _prettily_. That is something new. Not because it’s unexpected that Baz’s bum is pretty. I simply had no idea I’d find someone else’s arse lovely and definitely never thought it’d be puckering in a way I would find alluring. 

I get an overwhelming desire to kiss it or lick it. Anything really. 

Would Baz want me to do it? He seemed to enjoy all the other kisses though. 

”May I kiss you first?” I ask and Baz gives me an odd look. 

# BAZ

Is Snow trying to kill me with pleasure? How can I ever thank him for that? I can't let him know… It'll chase him away. Perhaps it won't matter in the end. He might not stay, no matter what I do or don't do. Still, I don't want to take any risks with disgusting him with my love. 

”You may,” I state without letting on how much I love him and how every gentle deed is filling my undead heart with joy, ”It _is_ edible lube.”

# SIMON

I smile at his attempt to flirt (if that's what he's doing) and leave a few kisses on his thigh. Baz’s scent is intoxicating. His skin is smooth and soft. I can't get enough of it.

Baz is delicious. Everything about his body is godlike and flawless. I ravish in his taste, his cool silky skin. I want to warm him up.

He trembles under me and I tilt my head and keep kissing every inch of him; his thighs, his arse getting closer to his beautiful hole. It's puckering welcomingly at me and when I kiss it, Baz gasps. 

I keep going, kissing and swiping my tongue over his hole. I suddenly sense something odd. He has a different scent than what I'm used to on him— cinnamon— and is it flavoured too? I look up at Baz.

Baz glances back at me, blushing, ”The lube is... smoke and cinnamon scented with cinnamon flavour.”

Smoke? I haven't sensed that myself. I reek of smoke — constantly. It's more when my magic is out of control, of course. But I always smell like smoke. And that is the scent Baz chose for his lube.

He must have wanted me for a good while then. I guess that makes sense, now that I think about it. All his attention has always gone towards me. Even if we were fighting most of the time. I wish we hadn’t done that. I like this better than fighting. We never need to do that again — be cruel to each other. 

If my deductions are correct, after today Baz and I are going to be engaged. I can't be happier than that. I want to spend the rest of my life snogging Baz. 

Truthfully I’d want to tell that to him right now — how glad this makes me. I am a bit preoccupied though; Baz’s arse comes first at the moment. I kiss him more all around his entrance and enjoy the sensation of his soft skin.

If I have to be completely honest, I would prefer non-scented and flavourless lube. I want to feel Baz more. Maybe next time. 

I do need to watch what I’m doing. I don’t want to hurt Baz by accident. Nonetheless, once in a while, during a long lick to his arse, I lift my gaze and get glimpses of his eyes — dark with pleasure and full of pure lust. 

Every lick I make sends him right up to the edge. He squirms and moans and arches his back. I am fairly sure Baz enjoys this more than me sucking his cock. Hell. _I_ enjoy this more. 

Perhaps not more, not really. I guess, I appreciate this new intimacy between us. Baz not only lets me do this to him but he _wants_ me to, he likes it.

He reacts to me in a manner that is making my head spin. I want to make Baz feel good, to do whatever it takes to please him the most. 

I'm increasingly focused on that one deed — his utmost pleasure. I had no idea I was capable of being attuned to such small details — the way Baz’s breathing and moans changes, what most turns him on. It's as if we're connected on the instinctive level. 

Every lick of my tongue or thrust into his delicious hole, results in the most beautiful noises from Baz, as if I am more than just a weapon. I am more to him. This is the biggest gift Baz could have presented me with. High on this feeling, I double my efforts on Baz’s hole, needing him satisfied and dazed with pleasure.

# BAZ

I get lost in the most glorious sexual experience of my life, practically shaking in euphoria, clutching at the sheets with both hands. Granted, this right here is my _only_ experience. What I mean is that Simon’s tongue is a magickal artefact of its own and I simply can not get enough of it. He's exploring every crevice of my hole and I shudder from the exhilarating sensation. 

His warmth is slipping into me, enveloping me in an ecstasy suited for Gods or Titans, not a mere mortal. (At least I think I am a mortal. In any case, I am as far from a God as one could be.)

The fact that Simon wants me like that sends me into a tempest of emotions. I still don’t know what this is for him. A little experimenting before Uni. I should worry more about that. Instead, I indulge myself in the sensation of his tongue on my arse and inside it too. 

When Simon starts probing my hole, my whole world is turned upside down. It’s exquisite, what he’s doing. I never knew it could feel this good.

I wonder if I could come just from this. That's how marvellous and overwhelming in the best possible way it feels; him thrusting his tongue into my hole again and again, licking me deep. 

Snow increases his attempts and is now entering me fully with the whole length of his tongue (or so it seems) and it’s taking my breath away. I might be growling or perhaps crying. I am not so sure anymore what my own mouth is doing. All I can concentrate on is how incredible his tongue is and how Simon is currently _fucking_ _me_ with it.

I always knew Simon Snow was a warrior. I had no idea that his tongue was too. It’s relentless and strong, entering me and giving me unbelievable pleasure.

It's everything I ever needed. Except the longer Simon fucks me with his tongue, the more desperate I am getting to experience his cock. If his tongue can accomplish this, I can only imagine what his glorious giant sword would be capable of.

# SIMON

Baz is purring prettily with every thrust of my tongue and I need him more. His hole is responsive to my every move. I want to fill it until Baz is completely satisfied. 

It is edible lube so I might be able to use my fingers and my tongue to make it better for Baz.

While kissing and licking lightly his delicious hole, I pick up the bottle of lube. 

I hear Baz draw a deep breath as I snap the cap of the bottle open. 

”If you want to,” I say just in case.

# BAZ

I am giddy with happiness and almost confess my undying love to him. 

Rather than doing that, I use my last ounce of self restraint and say, ”Less talking, more fingering, Snow.”

# SIMON

I try not to laugh as I kiss his skin everywhere I can reach and lube up my fingers.

Then carefully, I start probing Baz with one finger and lick him too. He lets out a little whimper and I still my finger and pull out my tongue. 

”Are you alright?” I ask because I'm worried I might have hurt Baz. 

” _Don't stop_ ,” he cries out breathlessly. I don't need to be told twice. I keep going and Baz trembles under me, moaning sweetly. I'm both licking and fingering him and try to decipher which moves will get the loudest gasps and moans out of him. 

I want Baz to enjoy himself and he does. His breath is catching and his eyes are hooded, expression of utter satisfaction colouring his beautiful face.

Baz’s hole is sucking me in, as if it wants nothing else more than me. My breathing gets extra ragged. I want him so much. I add another finger and see how that goes.

Moving them in the right way is a bit of a struggle. I’ve noticed that certain angles result with Baz moaning loudly, arching his back while his head tilts backwards in near ecstasy. It’s the best music my ears have ever heard and I’ve stayed outside the window, listening to Baz playing violin for years.

I start moving faster, wanting to coax out more of the beautiful melody his mouth is capable of.

Baz gasps and jerks against me, “Sorry. Was it too much?” I ask as I still my hand.

# BAZ

Too much? Is he bloody kidding me? I want Simon to plow my hole with his cock as if his life depended on it. I feel as if my life _is_ dependant on that. I need his humongous beast and I need to _now_.

# SIMON

“Not enough...,” he sounds desperate. That has never happened before; Baz always keeps his composure. I want to give him whatever he wants. I add another finger and it doesn’t take long for Baz to start rocking himself on me. 

I am breathless and panting myself. It’s too good, watching him through waves of pleasure, feeling his hole clench around me. I want to feel him with my cock. I _need_ to fill his hole.


	4. Chapter 4

# SIMON

Baz sneers at me: ”Oh for Crowley’s sake, just do it already.”

”I don't want to hurt you,” I admit. We’re on the bed still — his bed.

Baz is lying on his back, and I am, well... trying to balance his legs on my shoulder. I am worried about him. It doesn't seem comfortable.

”Don't worry, Snow,” Baz says and smirks, “I am rather _flexible_.”

He is a footballer after all. So that would make sense. Or is it not how it works?

Baz is blushing after that though, so I know he isn't as confident as he wants me to believe. I'm blushing too. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I want to. _I want him_.

My cock is aching from the desire to be inside Baz, however he’ll let me. I’m just nervous. Baz is too. That’s why he’s back to the sneering I gather.

I can’t really think properly and so I say the first mundane thing that comes to mind, ”You called me Simon before.”

Baz blushes _again_ , ”No, I didn’t.”

We aren’t fighting, not exactly. We’re just how we usually are with each other. I've realized that’s less of us fighting each other and more us being fundamentally awkward as people.

I guess nothing really changed between us then. Well, not that much anyway. I wonder if it means that I have _always_ fancied Baz at least a little, practically since we met.

# BAZ

We don’t have the need for using condoms. I am immune to all diseases and can not carry any either. (My aunt told me that and I prefer not to overthink any possible reasons behind her knowledge.)

As I see it, there aren’t many advantages to being a vampire. Thank snakes for _some_ perks.

“Make sure you lube yourself up properly,” I tell him, hoping that a tangible assignment will get him out of whatever nervous spiral Simon is in. After all, he is not a stranger to a mission.

Aleister Crowley, am I Simon’s latest expedition? I want him to explore me _thoroughly_ with his majestic sword.

It’s sweet of him to worry about my wellbeing. He doesn’t have to, not this time.

Come tomorrow, what Snow should be worried about is breaking my heart. I too should be thinking about that. And yet I do not have it in me to care.

Not when I feel his body on mine. Not when this might be my only chance to be close to Simon. It's not about sex. (Although that is a welcoming bonus.) Being with Simon, touching him, kissing him. For one night I can let myself believe in a fairy tale of him wanting me.

Well, he _does_ want me — physically. I know that should not be enough; that settling for just this is unbecoming, but that's not even the biggest issue.

My dignity be damned, I know that my undead heart will shatter into a million pieces and might never be mended again. Regardless, I can't lose this opportunity to be with him. I’ll pay for it tomorrow; today I'm letting myself have it.

Simon nods and reaches for the bottle of lube.

“I’m done,” he practically whimpers after.

He’s still far too nervous for my well being. It’s difficult to know how to react to that. “Will you come closer?” I ask.

“But— “ Simon tries to protest.

“ _Simon_ , you won’t hurt me,” I assert and use his first name. And so finally he bends down towards me with my legs still on his shoulders.

He’s close enough to kiss and I do just that. Let my lips soothe him and bring him back to pleasure, as my hands reach for his shoulders and his curls. I've noticed that he enjoys it when I pull on them. I do just that, coaxing a groan out of him.

Simon’s lips are getting hungrier on mine as the tension washes off him. I feel his humongous cock poking against my flesh, almost out of his own volition, gliding slick with lube.

I feel Simon shiver, I assume it's in pleasure from some needed friction. He’s practically humping me and is panting loudly into my mouth.

A shiver goes through me as well from the anticipation of _him_ inside of _me_.

”I want you in me right this moment,” I whisper and don't have it in me to care how unbecoming my behaviour is.

Simon’s breath hitches and he kisses me deeply and passionately, sucking on my bottom lip before he pulls away, getting in position.

”Alright?” he asks as the tip of his cock presses against my hole.

”Couldn't be better,” I try to smirk unsuccessfully. ”Go slow.” I add just in case. I am plenty relaxed. However, he _is_ enormous.

Simon’s other hand touches my thigh, his fingers brushing gently against my skin as he slowly and carefully starts entering me, giving me time to adjust.

I feel happiness spread through me at this tenderness. I can’t look away from his eyes, dark with hunger — _hunger for me_. And yet here he is, taking his time for my pleasure.

For a moment I'm worried I might cry from this — Simon showing me affection as if I were worth it.

I try my damndest _not_ to do that and concentrate on Simon instead.

The look in his gaze is deep and magnetic. I am going to get lost in it.

He's become too still again.

”Are you alright?” I ask.

”Are _you_?” he counters. ”I mean...am I too much?”

The answer is no, Simon is not too much. Even though my dildo isn't as big as he is, my body craves him, yearning for this sensation.

”No, you’re not,” I admit. ”Not at all.”

It is true in more than one way. Simon is absolutely perfect. I want each and every part of him. Nothing about him is ever too much, not to me.

”Do you want me to keep going?”

”I do,” I say and don't add _I want all of you forever._ ”If you want to, that is.” I need to give Simon an out.

Perhaps this is nothing more than an elaborate way of stating that he regrets this and doesn't want to continue.

Who could tell? I sure can't. I struggle understanding other people on regular basis.

# SIMON

Does he not know? Does Baz not understand that I want him above everything else?

I thought I was very clear earlier. I guess, I should say it out loud then, just in case.

# BAZ

Something shifts in Simon’s eyes. They look almost predatory now.

”Fuck, Baz… I… I want you so much…,” as he utters those words my brain short circuits altogether.

I feel the moment he starts sliding a bit more and it's good, _so_ good.

When Simon finally enters into me fully, the euphoria is indescribable. I feel as if I am on fire or perhaps I am a flame myself… I'm filled with him and it's the greatest feeling in the world.

He stops then for a moment but I keep moaning from the sensation of his beast inside of me, filling me in the best possible way.

Simon is inside me. Aleister Crowley, I can hardly believe that.

”Still good?” he whispers, panting.

”Perfect,” I confess despite the fact I probably shouldn't reveal this much and risk him being repulsed by my love. He smiles at me though and it warms my undead heart.

I feel Simon’s body tremble as he starts to move inside me, his cock sliding out of my hole and entering me again.

”Oh yes…,” I gasp, breathless desperate because it's incredible. Because it's Simon and he’s big and I want that.

His thrusts can't be compared to synchronised swimming and yet this is so much better than a dildo. I have to bite my tongue so as to not reveal all my feelings to him.

After a while, he is getting a better hang of it. Every time he brushes against my prostate, it's getting better. He _will_ push me over the edge with both his powerful cock and arms. (Simon has quite the stamina. Those missions he’s been on had at least one perk.)

I watch the muscles on his arms strain beautifully. I want to lick them, I want to lick _him_.

”God...Baz…” Simon swears like a Normal now and this might be the happiest moment of my so-called life. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard him do so. However, it is the first time he does it out of sheer satisfaction and pleasure of being inside me.

The way he groans with every thrust is getting me randy more than anything else.

I crave all of Simon’s reactions. I want him to enjoy himself and experience as much pleasure as I am.

# SIMON

”Oh, Simon…” Baz moans and I'm too ecstatic to point out to him that he indeed just called me by my first name _again_. My name has been playing on repeat on his lips. I can't stop calling for him either.

I love saying Baz’s name out loud. Finally, I can do it as much as I want to. I tried to not use his name much before. It felt too intimate somehow. But since we are extremely intimate right now, I can repeat his name as often as I wish.

”Baz…” I practically growl and kiss the knee that is resting against my shoulder. My hands are holding tight to his hips; both for stability and because I need to feel him everywhere.

It feels good, so good — everything we’re doing. He _feels_ incredible.

Baz is so hot — the way he looks, moves, and moans. And he _is_ pretty flexible just like he said.

His delicious cool hole is wrapped around my cock almost possessively, clenching as if it doesn't want to let go of me. I want to stay inside him forever. He feels heavenly. I didn't know I’d ever get to experience such pleasure.

I'm trying to angle my cock more in a certain way. Baz told me what to do but I don't think I've managed that in the beginning.

However, Baz’s moans are getting louder. I want to hear more, to coax more of the incredible noises that are making my head spin in almost as much pleasure as my cock inside his arse. (Which for the record, I had no idea would feel _this_ good.)

# BAZ

We aren't going to last long. It's a miracle we’ve made it this far. As I reach for my cock, Simon croaks out, ”May I?”

”By all means,” I somehow answer coherently as he plunges his cock into me again.

His thrusts and his pulls on my cock are not exactly coordinated. And yet it's heavenly nirvana and I never want this to end.

Simon comes before me. A growl as loud as a thunder on a stormy night breaks out from his throat and strikes me like a bolt of lighting; burning through my body all the way to my undead heart. ” _Baz_ ,” he groans and I stop breathing altogether. Simon is calling for me as he comes.

He looks stunning; biting his lower lip, face concentrated, arms straining, fingers digging into my hip as he keeps getting me off while plowing me through his orgasm, as relentless as he is.

Simon never gives up. He keeps going through shudder after shudder of his own body.

If anything he’s taking me with more force now, if that is even possible. Simon seems to have found the perfect stroke, ramming my prostate to heaven and back. It's simply marvellous. I am beyond grateful — he feels incredible inside me.

Simon Snow is the greatest mage to ever walk this Earth and fucking my hole seems to be his most pressing mission at the moment. That just goes straight to my aching cock and my yearning undead heart.

He is filling me with the fruits of our pleasure and it shouldn't feel good or like anything at all, perhaps. And yet, him exploding inside me is exhilarating. I want him in each and every way.

”Sorry— ” he mumbles, still panting. His eyes apologetic on mine as he finishes me off, stroking my cock fast and determined, his is slowly softening inside me even though Simon is still thrusting into me. “ —I came too fast.” I don't actually mind that.

We're achieving mutual bliss no matter who comes first. Besides watching Simon orgasm has now become my favourite pastime. I will think of the repercussions of these dangerous fantasies tomorrow.

”It’s...better,” I whisper through another moan. And it is. I’d be too sensitive to continue if it were the other way around and I came before him. As Simon is going softer and softer, his thrusts come to a halt. I miss his hardness already. And I like this too, him not pulling out right away after coming.

His cock inside me makes me think Simon wants more of me, as if even when he isn’t fucking me, he still wants to _feel_ me.

His come is leaking from my hole alongside the lube; dripping on my bottom. I should find the mess we're creating disgusting. Instead, I can't get enough of the sensation — Simon’s come inside me and on me. I want to relive this over and over again.

Simon is pulling on my cock, gently rubbing my thigh with his other hand that for a moment I'm so overwhelmed with glee, I feel tears prickling in my eyes. Tears of joy.

I blink them away. I'm so close to an orgasm now, my body feels like a tightly pulled rubber band.

The heat is getting overwhelming in my groin, every stroke bringing me closer to the edge. My body is aching, trembling. I pull at the sheets, and am surprised I haven't ripped them apart with my fingers yet.

My eyes shut involuntarily for a mere second. I open them; I _need_ to see Simon as I come. He's biting his lip again in concentration.

Without breaking eye contact, I arch my back and tilt my head back a little, as one of my hands lets go of the bedding and latches onto his hand, the one on my thigh.

Simon takes my hand and holds it, rubbing circles on my knuckles as his other hand keeps stroking me.

# SIMON

Baz is so beautiful and I want to kiss him so much. I'm just worried I end up hurting him instead. Except as we hold hands, I know I need to kiss him if he’ll want that.

”Baz— ” I ask, without slowing down my hand on his cock. ”— could I kiss you?”

”Crowley, yes!” he cries out and pulls on my hand.

As soon as our lips meet, everything feels complete.

# BAZ

Simon’s lips on mine feel divine. It's all I ever wanted. In this moment I forget everything bad and let the connection between us, the one my mind dreamed up desperate for Simon, overwhelm all my senses.

A few more pulls of his strong tawny hand on my cock and I spill all over his hand and his stomach, desperately screaming in his mouth, ” _Simon_.”

Everything goes silent for a moment, except for our breathing and our heartbeats.

I feel his face against mine and breath him in.

After a while Simon places a peck on my cheek and pulls away some. I open my eyes.

He doesn't look disgusted over my come or my overly emotional reaction. Simon gifts me with a bright wide smile and kisses my knee. His lips linger as he inhales — inhales _me_ , my skin.

I'm too shocked by the gesture to react.

Then Simon carefully pulls out of me and sets my legs on the bed. He climbs next to me and kisses me. Simon’s lips are sweet against mine and I want more. I want to wrap my arms around him.

Except, I feel weightless. I'm not sure I could move now if I try.

# SIMON

”Alright?” I ask Baz after I reluctantly pull my lips from his.

Baz seems to try and smirk, ”Splendid, and you?”

”I'm great. It was bloody brilliant.” I answer honestly. Because it was. I kiss him again. Baz is kissing me back just as eagerly as before, his lips soft and delicious against mine. But he does look tired though.

I know how important it probably is for him that we take a shower. We’re both covered in come and lube. Some rubbed off from my stomach over to Baz when I kissed him. So he’s got more than me even. It's messy and Baz doesn't exactly handle that well. I've shared a room with him for almost eight years. I might not know everything about Baz, but I know enough.

However, I don't think he is in any state for a shower.

”I’ll be back in a moment,” I say and leave for the en suite. I clean myself up quickly with flannel and get another one for Baz, soaked in lukewarm water.

”Is this okay?” I ask and hold up the flannel in front of him.

”Just make sure not to leave it lying on the floor afterwards, it would ruin the wood.” That seems to be his way of approving of my actions.

I clean up Baz’s stomach, cock, and around his bum and bring the flannel back to the en suite.

When I come back, I lie next to him, reaching for his hand. I don't think I will ever be able to go any length of time without feeling Baz against me in some manner.

His hand feel a bit cool again. I can feel him shiver. I need to warm Baz up. I don't like the idea of him being cold.

It doesn't take long before he ends up in my arms. I want Baz like this forever. I want to share everything I have and everything I am with him.

We’ll need to talk about our relationship status tomorrow. He seems a bit too tired for a conversation right now.

# BAZ

I was so preoccupied with the best experience of my life, that for a moment I completely forgot I'm not actually alive.

Snow suspects I'm a vampire. However, it is not right to keep this unsaid. I don't want any secrets between us. Except for the fact that I'm in love with him and he sees me as... what exactly?

 _Not now, Basilton._ I will have a nervous breakdown about Snow leaving me later — tomorrow.

Right now, I need to tell him the truth.

”Snow,” I utter as steady as I can. ”I'm a vampire.”

There — it's out in the open now. Were Snow, against all odds, smitten with me before, he will lose any interest in me altogether now.

It might be even safe to assume that the only reason he kissed me was on the off chance that I wasn't a vampire. Confirming the contrary is going to cost me any prospects of ever being in a relationship with Simon Snow.

# SIMON

His voice is strained. I don't take this lightly, Baz telling me his secret. However, I don't want to make a big thing about it either, and possibly make him uncomfortable.

”I know,” I say and kiss his head, as my arms envelop Baz more, pulling him closer.

He inhales, softly. I can still hear the relief. It breaks my heart that he’d be this worried. It's my fault. I will never again make him feel less for being a vampire. I never meant to do that in the first place. I'm ashamed of it now. I won't let anyone hurt him ever again, me included.

I reach for Baz’s hand; he takes it. I squeeze lightly and bring it to my lips, placing a few kisses on his palm and then turn his hand around and kiss each knuckle and each finger.

When his hand is still in mine and safely lying on my chest, where it belongs, I kiss his head again.

”Good night, Baz,” I say and feel him smiling.

# BAZ

His lips are burning through me, giving me life because it’s _Simon_ and I love him. My secret, the one I kept from him for years, is out in the open. Of course, he suspected it before. But now Simon knows that I am a vampire and he doesn’t seem to mind. The relief I feel over that is indescribable. It makes me feel less of a monster if Simon, the best person in this realm, any realm, sees something good in me.

Nevertheless, I am absolutely terrified about what will happen tomorrow. I’m worried Simon knows now how much I love him. If I had any self-preservation skills left, I would move over to his bed, or kick Snow out of mine.

Rather than doing either of those things, I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and savour his arms around me — basking in his warmth and his scent. I am not foolish enough to believe this will last. Yet I am too weak to be reasonable at the moment.

”Good night, Snow.” At the very least I managed to refrain from calling Simon by his first name. Perhaps there is some sanity left in me after all.

I feel his fingers on my shoulder, moving slowly; touching me in a manner I crave more than what transpired between us earlier.

I need to remember everything about today. I don’t want to sleep.

Without realising it my breathing starts to follow the rhythm of his movements. It’s soothing what Simon is doing. I am eventually lulled to sleep with the feel of him against me.

* * *

# SIMON

When I wake up, Baz is still in my arms. He hasn’t left the bed. He is awake though. I know the difference between his breathing patterns. I learnt that one fairly quickly. I would listen to Baz breathe every night. (I tried hard to believe I didn't want him but certain signs were there anyway.)

I wonder if he's nervous. If that's why he is pretending to be asleep. There is something I need to know. Are we engaged or just boyfriends? Is it what Baz is also worried about? Doesn’t he know either how the World of Mages works?

That seems unlikely, but who knows. Possibly Baz never discussed these matters at home.

# BAZ

The bitter reality of the morning after sobers me up. What _was_ I thinking? He doesn't want me. This was a simple case of experimenting in the boudoir. He’d never be my boyfriend. He’ll let me down easily and that's if I'm lucky. More probable is that Snow will tell me I dreamed it all up and then will go on pretending like it never happened. He isn’t a liar but the shock of being with a bloke could prompt him to this. He might even not believe it himself.

# SIMON

”Good Morning, darling,” I whisper into Baz’s hair and kiss the top of his head. He freezes against me. I don't want him to stress. I'm not sure what to say to him to soothe his nerves though. So I kiss his hair and Baz relaxes in my arms.

I can’t really see his face but I feel him smiling and take a deep breath.

“Good Morning... Simon,” he murmurs softly and I grin. Baz called me by my first name _again_. I hope we can talk about our relationship soon.

I wanted to have this conversation later at a more appropriate time — after breakfast. But then what if someone would try to snag Baz from me on the way to the dining hall. It’s better to be sure. So I just blurt out, “Are we engaged or just boyfriends?”

Baz lifts his head up and looks at me confused.

# BAZ

I would have thought that I misheard or perhaps that my nerves in regards to calling Simon by his first name are taking over my mind completely. I had to do that — call him Simon. He kissed me and called me _darling_.

Surely, it was time to show more of myself. Unless I am being punished for it by my brain now. Is this a hallucination or has Simon just asked me if we’re engaged or just boyfriends?

In case this indeed is a real question I need to address his concerns. Even though it seems like an odd thing to ask. Why on Earth would we be engaged? Unless… Is it because we had sex? Is that customary in the Normal World?

Does it mean Simon hasn’t had sex with anyone else but me? Not that I want to throw that in Wellbelove’s face, I don’t think.

Who am I kidding? I may want to do just that. For all the years I’ve spent in agony.

However, now is not the time. I need to play my cards right. If this is nothing more than a mere illusion, well, it’s safe to assume I may have gone up in flames from sex yesterday, or even earlier. Perhaps I’ve been dead for a while now.

But what if this is reality and Simon is asking me because he wants to know? He was raised in the Normal World and is used to those customs. Is Simon worried about what I might think about that — being engaged after only spending one night together?

I need to make sure he’s happy. Besides, I want nothing else than to be engaged and then married to him as soon as possible. I am not ashamed of admitting to that. Any kind of commitment would be a dream come true; the more permanent commitment the better.

I state as calmly as possible looking him in the eye, “I am assuming we’re engaged unless you feel otherwise.” I need to give Simon an out, just in case.

He beams at me then, “I thought so too, just checking.”

This means that Simon went to bed with me, thinking we’d be engaged afterwards.

Well… Is Simon in love with me then? Can it even be possible? Why else would he do it?

Should I tell him that I'm in love with him or would that be too soon? Perhaps not too soon, we _are_ engaged after all.

I reach for his hand. Simon takes it, still smiling widely at me; there is a joyful glint in his eyes. It's intoxicating. I put it there. I haven't destroyed anything. I've made Simon smile by telling him we are engaged.

I'm done being a coward. I take a deep breath, keep looking into his eyes — the most beautiful blue I've ever seen; and say what has been in my heart since I was twelve years old. (Even if I haven't realised it myself at the time.)

”I love you, Simon.”

His smile doesn’t falter. It gets even wider instead.

Simon is still holding my hand. I brush his knuckles lightly with my fingertips and entwine our fingers together.

”I love you too, Baz,” he says and reaches for me with his mouth. I hold his hand and kiss him with everything I’ve got. It feels so good, I end up swooning despite being in bed.

Happiness spreads through my body and I feel warmer. Not only from Simon’s body but from this new feeling I'm not used to.

A sudden laugh burst out of me and I can't seem to stop. Simon starts laughing too, right into my mouth. It is the most incredible melody I've ever heard.

We’re laughing and kissing and Simon is pulling me to him as much as I am pressing myself into him.

I don't ever want there to be a distance between us — none at all. And by the determination with which he holds on to me, I now know that the feeling is mutual.

I am going to die of old age, kissing Simon Snow. Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

Would he like to take my last name? Perhaps join all of our names? Should we have a big party and give the elderly in the World of Mages a heart attack. Should we elope? And give a heart attack to even more people?

Truthfully I am not keen on causing anyone health issues. Regardless, it might be unavoidable. Not everyone will be happy about this. And I couldn't care less about that. My aunt will help if it comes to an outright war. She’s been spoiling to fight someone, anyone really who’s against her family for years.

Our wedding plans notwithstanding, certain things I want to get to already today. (Simon is already poking his wild stallion against me. I _need_ to ride him.)

That is why despite my desire to keep snogging Simon, I pull away.

“Well then, fiancée. Care to join me in the shower before breakfast?” I ask and then offer as I reach for the drawer in my nightstand, “I have a mint Aero for you.”

Simon needs to be constantly stuffing his mouth and I am not going to keep him away from breakfast without some incentive.

# SIMON

Baz and I are engaged. I knew they were old fashioned in the Word of Mages. I like this tradition though. It works in my favour.

 _I’ve got you now,_ I think. _I’ve finally got you where I want you._

Should we get married over the Winter break? We’ll have plenty of time for that and for a proper honeymoon. Somewhere secluded where we can have a lot of sex.

Baz’s family is rich and I have that huge bag of leprechaun gold. How much can a secluded honeymoon cost anyway? We’d need to get a flat for when we start uni.

Penny might kill me. We were supposed to be flatmates once we graduated Watford. Well, maybe she’ll be happy. Penelope always says that I am difficult, constantly talking about Baz.

Now I will just spend time with Baz instead of complaining about his absence. I think she will be really delighted about this.

I'm guessing most people won't be happy about us getting married. The good thing is everyone, except for Baz and Penny, is terrified of me.

We have so much catching up to do — Baz and I. All the years we could have spent _snogging_.

Might as well start now. I tilt my head towards Baz, he meets me halfway — his lips reaching for mine, dropping the mint Aero he just retrieved from his nightstand; our arms embracing each other, pulling each other closer, limbs entangled.

Baz is already hard and I press my own achingly hard cock flush with his, thrusting into him.

”Oh…, ” Baz moans into my mouth and I kiss him, prolonging the kiss for as long as possible and don't pull away until we're both breathless.

“Thanks, that sounds great actually,” I finally answer his question and pick up the chocolate bar lying next to us.

If I have to be completely honest, I’d rather stuff _his cock_ in my mouth rather than a mint Aero.

Nevertheless, I might need some energy if I am about to try more of those acrobatics Baz seems to be able to perform while we're in the shower.

And I'd better get used to mornings like these. That is the future I never dared to dream about — Baz and I together.

Us sleeping in each other’s arms. Me knowing that no one is hurting him, that's he's safe here with me. Because with Baz I _feel_ like a good person. Not because I have to but because I want to. And I am as long as we're together.

I can have a real future now, the kind I crave the most. I let myself imagine waking up to Baz every day for the rest of our lives.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my fic. Each and every kudos and comment meant a lot. 💙💙💙
> 
> As those of you who’ve read my other fics know, I've been struggling with depression and other mental health issues. 
> 
> It's gotten much worse since Quarantine as it has for so many people. Fanfiction has been my _only_ coping mechanism. 
> 
> Unfortunately, someone hurt my feelings deeply in regards to my writing. I've been so upset, I haven't written since and hardly managed to finish editing this chapter.
> 
> I have many unfinished wips out there and I'm not exactly sure when I will get back to them. 
> 
> For now, the plan is to go back to revising ”Summertime” and hopefully cheer myself up in the process. (That's my go-to fic when things get tough.) 
> 
> I do promise that if things go _so_ badly that I won't be able to continue on my wips, I will post all the drafts and outlines and hopefully bring some kind of closure to those of you who were reading the fics.
> 
> Thank you for all your support. 💙💙💙

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 😎


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